Right You, Wrong Time
by IWrite4Olitz
Summary: This is a very different version of Chapter 1 that I wrote for "No Regrets." It's much more romantic comedy than steamy, but somehow I still think it suits them. If they were "normal," I imagine they might be this way with each other. Enjoy.


Olivia noticed him first as he walked into the lounge. He was tall, well dressed, and had a casual arrogance about him-the kind that left the impression that he was someone very important. He had the authoritative speech of a man accustomed to making people listen, and everyone at the bar heard him order a full bottle of eighteen year old blended scotch.

He was hardly an arm's length from Olivia, oblivious to her stunned expression as he unceremoniously poured himself a few ounces. He didn't bother to swirl the amber liquid around and sniff it before draining the glass. He was about to pour himself a second when he finally looked up to catch several people quickly averting their gazes.

But not her. She looked right into his eyes. They were an intriguing shade of blue-or maybe gray-and there was a weariness behind them that lent a solemn quality to his handsome face.

An energy sparked between them that poets have failed to accurately describe for thousands of years. Sudden. Debilitating. Like being turned inside out in an instant and having every part of you laid bare.

"Jesus," he said in admiration.

He tried to think of anything that could do justice to her skin. It was brown, but it was gold. Raw sienna peeking through black lace. Her face was high boned and delicate, with full, round lips whose smile illuminated eyes so deep and sultry dark, he could see his reflection in them. She knew that she was beautiful.

"Olivia, actually," she quipped in a clear, assertive tone, and extended her hand.

She sucked in a breath as his laughter immediately transformed his face, softening the hard line of his jaw as tiny crinkles formed near his eyes.

He took her hand but didn't shake it. Instead, he rotated their hands so that her knuckles were facing up, the pads of his fingers tingling like waking limbs as they brushed her palm.

"Fitz."

He was sure that his heartbeat could be heard above the silky sounds coming from the stage. It pounded in his ears so loudly that he wondered for a moment if she'd even heard him speak. His thumb moved over her knuckles briefly, memorizing the smooth texture of her skin before he reluctantly let go of her hand.

Olivia felt warmth spread beneath her skin as her golden undertones tinged pink at the contact. She picked up her glass of red wine to give her shaky fingers something to do.

"That was quite an entrance," she said, eyeing his bottle of whiskey. "You've either had a very good, or very bad day."

"Are you teasing me, Olivia?"

She laughed and shook her head gently. "Just making an observation."

The movement brought his attention to her hair, which framed her stunning face with soft, dark curls. _So sexy,_ he thought. He had no desire to rehash the events that had prompted him to drink, but he _definitely_ wanted to keep talking to her, so he quickly changed the subject.

"What brings you to Chicago?"

Olivia sat down and crossed legs that seemed long for her petite frame. "How do you know I'm not from here?"

"It's a hotel lounge," he said simply. "No one is from here. "

His eyes were everywhere at once-watching her every movement as she set her glass on the bar and circled a dainty foot to loosen her stiletto and let it dangle from her toes.

"Work brings me to Chicago," she finally responded. "But I wouldn't mind being a tourist for once."

Fitz couldn't remember the last time he'd found a woman so fascinating. She was direct-bold, even. But something about her eyes made her seem vulnerable too, and he felt suddenly protective of her.

"I'm here for work, too," he said, looking intently into her eyes again. "Things didn't exactly pan out, but I think it's looking up."

One of her fine brows lifted at his tone. "What makes you think so?"

"You're still talking to me."

She laughed again. "You seem pretty confident."

"I'm not," he said honestly. "I'm just hopelessly optimistic."

Olivia saw something in his expressive eyes that gripped her heart for a moment and squeezed it-that damned unnamable thing that sent her pulse racing and sucked her into him just that quickly. His expression changed from amusement to a subtle earnestness that gave her the distinct impression that he was being sucked in, too. And then she realized that they'd both stopped talking and were staring at each other.

"Fitz?"

He came to his senses. "I could show you around."

"It's after midnight."

"It's Chicago. Half the city is still awake."

She frowned. "You're _serious._ "

"As a heart attack," he said with a grin.

"I don't know you."

"Then why does it feel like you do?"

She swallowed and looked away.

"You feel it too."

"Yes, but you could be a serial killer."

Fitz chuckled-because she was perfectly serious. "I'm not a serial killer."

The look she gave him said, _That's exactly what a serial killer would say._

"Right. I do fit the bill quite nicely, don't I?" He seemed genuinely perplexed, but after a moment, he reached into his pocket for his phone. A swipe, a few taps...a smirk in her direction and a few more taps later, and he handed it to Olivia.

"What are you-?"

"That handsome guy in the profile picture there is me," he said with a grin. "It still won't prove my _not_ a serial killer status, but it's got to make me a little less of a wild card, don't you think?"

He had such an easiness about him that Olivia's heart trilled in her chest. She was letting herself feel _way_ too comfortable with this stranger. She shifted in her seat and looked down at his profile.

"What, no last name?"

"I deleted it just now. A little mystery makes me sexier."

Her head fell back from the force of her laughter. "Or like you're hiding something," she said after she'd sobered.

"I make no secret that I'm hiding something. The thing that didn't pan out is...it meant a lot to me. Everything, as a matter of fact. I'd just like to keep it to myself for a little while longer before I have to read about it in the paper."

That awakened a curiosity in Olivia that was hard to force back down, but the passion in his response-behind his eyes-was so compelling. Her eyes moved to the slight fullness of his lips, as if judging his sincerity by the set of his mouth. When she looked up at him again, she smiled, and a thrill ripped through him like an adrenaline rush.

"Good, let's get out of here," he said, dropping cash on the bar as they went to collect their coats.

* * *

There were plenty of people about, despite the late hour. It was chilly but comfortable enough for Fitz and Olivia to leave their coats undone.

"You're okay in those?" he asked, looking down at her shoes.

"I can run in heels," she said as they walked toward Millennium Park.

He resisted the urge to reach for her hand, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"How old are you?" Olivia asked.

"Forty-six. You?"

"Thirty two. What do you do?"

"I make things."

"That's amazing," she quipped. "And very vague."

"Go easy on me," he teased. "I told you it didn't go well today, and then I got picked up in a bar so I'm just a walking cliche."

She snickered. "Okay, is where you're from a safe question?"

"An island in the state of Washington."

"Aaahhh...I have _no_ idea what that means."

"Then we're off to a terrible start already," he cracked and she giggled softly. God, she was cute. "There are small islands in Puget Sound," he explained. "I live on one of them."

"Well, I'll see your island in Washington and raise you an island in New York."

"Oh come on, you're breaking my heart," he said as they crossed the street.

* * *

Pizano's on Madison, right across from the park, was still open-just as Fitz had said it would be. He ordered a single slice of Rudy's Special, looking pointedly at Olivia's lips before adding, "Hold the onions."

"Smooth," she told him flippantly as he held the door open for her.

They had thirty minutes to kill before Chicago's best deep dish was ready, so Fitz led them into the park for a walk across the flowing, sinuous curves of the city's serpentine pedestrian bridge. The bridge's shiny plates reflected the stunning skyline, the brushed stainless steel gold from the lighted pathway.

"Wow," Olivia exhaled as she took in the view.

The sleek, modern art of the park was left behind and they could see the skyscrapers of downtown from the place they chose to stop. The lights of those towers glowed like burning gold in the deep indigo sky. The bridge blocked out the noise of Columbus Avenue beneath them, making it easy to hear each other as they continued their easy banter.

"I love a great view, don't you?" Olivia asked wistfully.

Fitz had seen this view before and was perfectly content to stare at her as she took it in. "What else do you love?"

She sighed thoughtfully, and then decided to keep things light. "Ferris wheels."

" _Ferris wheels?"_

"Yes, _Ferris wheels_ ," she repeated, elbowing him playfully. "I have since I was a little girl. I like heights in general. And movies."

"I'd never take you to the movies."

"Good thing this isn't a date then."

He laughed at her indignant tone. "I like talking to you. You can't talk in movies."

Olivia's spine straightened from the ripple effect his voice had on her nerves. She wondered what it might be like to see a movie with him.

"What about you?" she asked softly.

His somber smile returned and tightened her chest. What had happened to keep that smile from reaching his eyes?

Fitz saw the way she was looking at him-like she was looking _into_ him and quickly lightened up again. "I like to travel. I like learning about things I'm not good at. And making things," he said with a smirk.

"Ah, the vagueness again," she said playfully. "Stop playing hard to get. I already know you're easy."

"It's true. But only because you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

Olivia's heart stopped mid-thump and tail spinned into her stomach. There was a raspiness to his deep voice, a rawness in his soulful eyes that killed any notion that he was still teasing as his face drew closer to hers. She could see every fine detail of his skin-like smooth, warm sand, and the little striations in his dark, waving hair. She instinctively reached up to touch his cheek.

Fitz bent his head then, his eyes never leaving her face, and did what he'd wanted to do since the second he'd laid eyes on her. He moaned-he couldn't help it-as she kissed him back. _So soft,_ he thought as he parted his lips to taste her again. _So sweet._

It felt natural kissing her, gliding his tongue along hers and nipping that plump lower lip with his teeth. His mind reeled as thoughts of long hours and rough days were replaced by her. Just her. The sounds of the traffic beneath them and people passing by on the bridge faded as their shared breaths filled their ears. His hands trailed Olivia's arms until they rested at her waist, his thumbs drawing soft circles there. Olivia broke the kiss to moan in his ear.

Fitz swore. "Olivia."

Her skin prickled as her name left his lips like an endearment. Her face was hot, her lips tingling. He smelled of whiskey and musk, and every bit of warmth left her the second he pulled away. The city roared back to life as he looked at her. Instantly, she felt embarrassed.

"I don't do this," she blurted, more to herself than to Fitz, it seemed.

"I don't judge."

She smacked his shoulder. "I mean it."

His expression sobered. "Neither do I. But there's something between us..."

He'd trailed off, but Olivia knew what he meant. She'd been avoiding actually mentioning whatever anomaly had sent her traipsing around an unfamiliar city with a perfect stranger. The intensity in his voice, his eyes, was flattering-and a little scary. He was obviously avoiding things too, so she decided not to get in too deep.

"Pizza," she whispered.

He took her hand then, like it was the most natural thing in the world to do, and because he couldn't _not_ touch her after that kiss. And she let him.

Then they turned back.

* * *

They caught a cab to the parking garage at the Navy Pier. It was seven stories high, but the rooftop was what Fitz was after, and Olivia quickly learned why.

"Ferris wheel." She grinned as she looked down at the pier. "Thoughtful, but I think we missed the last ride by a few hours. You might have noticed the lights are out."

"I did notice that, thank you," Fitz cracked. "But you also said you love a good view, and this is one of the best in the city. Come on, I'll show you."

He leaned against a big, boxy sedan, testing for an alarm. When nothing happened, he climbed onto the hood, taking their food with him.

Olivia looked at him like he'd lost his mind.

He lifted a brow at her and held out his hand. "This car is parked for the rest of the night and it's got front row seats."

Olivia shook her head and accepted his hand as he helped her climb up. As they settled in comfortably with their backs against the windshield, they discovered that they'd only been given one fork. Olivia wrinkled her nose.

"You've gotta be kidding me," he said in disbelief. "You just had your tongue down my throat half an hour ago."

She giggled for what must have been the hundredth time since meeting him and snatched the fork away to dig into the sinfully portioned deep dish slice.

"Mmmm," she moaned contentedly.

Fitz was openly staring at her. "Told you."

"Mmhmm." She dismissed his gloating and dove in again, sitting back to admire the incredible view.

Even from their spot on the roof, with the covered pier right down in front, they could see the long stretch of skyscrapers and high risers along the shore of Lake Michigan. Their dark shapes were sharply defined against the softer hue of the sky, and they seemed to go on forever. Olivia playfully fed Fitz when she wasn't taking bites herself, and they finished the slice in no time.

"Here, try this," Fitz offered, tipping his bottle of whiskey toward her.

She giggled again at how absurd they must look, drinking whiskey from the bottle as they sat on the hood of the car. "What the hell," she gave in, and took a sip.

Immediately, she regretted it. A fire started in her throat and burned its way to her stomach. Fitz didn't even try to hide his laughter as he patted her back through her coughs. She took several sips of her water to put out the few dying embers in her throat.

"My God," she croaked when she could speak again. "You can't possibly drink that on purpose."

Fitz found himself grinning again. "Oh come on, the first sip always burns a little."

"A _little?_ " she gasped. "I almost died!"

"Try it again."

"No way. Fool me once," she said, glaring at him.

"You defied reason to hang out with me tonight even when you thought I might kill you, but you can't take a little whiskey?" He tsssked, teasing her mercilessly.

"Oh _fine,"_ she muttered, snatching the bottle away. She poured some of her water onto the ground and started to pour some of the whiskey into her water bottle when he stilled her hand.

"That is an _eighty_ dollar bottle of whiskey," he said with a straight face, looking into her eyes. "This is sacrilege."

Her chin rose in defiance. "It's disgusting."

"It's an acquired taste."

"How long does it take to acquire?"

"If life comes at you hard enough, just a few sips." He was only half joking.

 _There it is again,_ Olivia thought as his eyes grew darker-deeper-from whatever he was trying to forget.

"Whatever it is, you'll beat it," she said with conviction.

Without another word, she raised the bottle to her lips again and sipped it straight, swallowing gingerly this time as she stared at the skyline again. It didn't take long before the warmth in their blood overcame the cold in the air. They were already sitting close to each other, as even the broad hood of the sedan was a challenge for Fitz's tall frame. After several minutes of comfortable silence ticked by, they found themselves hugged up even closer. They noticed at the same time, when they turned to look at each other and were nearly nose to nose.

"Thank you, Fitz."

"Don't thank me." His eyes roamed her face. "The tour was pretty shabby."

Olivia was frozen by the depth in his eyes again. "It was perfect."

"Almost."

She tensed the moment she saw in Fitz's eyes that he would kiss her again. He pulled her into his lap and wrapped an arm around her, gently stroking her back as he warmed her body with his own. She sighed and gave into it, gave all in her response.

Fitz's hands sank into her hair and she moaned, letting him pull her head back to worship her neck with his tongue.

He pulled away after several minutes, his nostrils flaring with the effort to breathe.

"Look at me," he said, his voice thick as he waited for her to open her eyes.

Olivia's pulse raced at the feel of his strong thighs beneath her, his powerful arms around her and his warm breath on her face. Her fingers were linked together behind his head as she looked into his eyes.

Fitz watched in awe as Olivia visibly worked to calm her breathing. Her face was flushed and her hair was in slight disarray, her breaths forming little swirls in the cold night air. He'd never seen anyone look so lovely.

"Not shabby at all," he muttered.

Olivia was transfixed by his eyes-because his smile had finally reached them.

"That's what I've waited to see since the moment we met," she confessed softly.

Fitz felt like she was about to share a guarded secret. He raised a hand to smooth her hair back from her brow. "What's that?"

"You. Happy."

He leaned in again and she closed her eyes.

* * *

The taxi dropped Olivia off first, back at her hotel which housed the lounge where they'd met. It was nearly 4:00am, and she'd get only a few hours' sleep before her flight back to New York. Fitz told the cabbie to wait and followed her out of the car. He caught a glimpse of her expression before she could temper it, and he knew that the knot in his throat had duplicated itself and spread to hers. He lifted her chin with his finger.

"You could change your mind and let me call you."

"Fitz…"

"I know," he said, nodding. "But it was a nice thought."

Olivia smiled. As much as it gave her jitters to know that reality had returned, she knew her decision was the right one. Fitz needed to beat his demons on his own.

"Goodnight, Fitz," she said softly. "And good luck."

He kissed her forehead, needing to touch her one more time.

"Goodnight, Olivia."


End file.
